


Dangerous Spots

by crazykookie



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010) RPF
Genre: M/M, Pre-slash-ish-y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 21:37:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazykookie/pseuds/crazykookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a little story about Scott Caan and Alex O' happening to have time to spend together during the holidays. Spelunking thankfully does not have to happen, but pineapple pizza happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangerous Spots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LavenderBasil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavenderBasil/gifts).



> Against my hopes, this ended up trope-less. This is to say Happy Yuletide to LavenderBasil. I hope you enjoy it!

Spelunking was on Alex’s holiday list, as was paddleboating (which would have been fine was it not for the specification of in the box-jellyfish habitat off of Oahu). There followed visiting a forest that, while, as Alex insisted, "spectacular," was the home of very large spiders; swimming with sharks; cliff diving; and—

"Volcano climbing, really?" Scott interrupted. He was exercising tolerance when it came to the leisure activities of a resident of a childhood land far more South and Wild than his, but when it came down it, he had eventually admitted to himself that he valued his own life over his character.

"Come on Scott, we're not Steve Irwin; no one actually dies in nature," insisted Alex as he swiveled his swivel-y chair that Scott had accepted the year before that Alex would have in his trailer but Scott would never be given because no matter how much of a babe Scott's photography skills made him, Alex's accent off-camera was more endearing to the P.A.s.

"No, we're sounding a little like Steve Irwin right now, nearing his interaction with the stingray," Scott insisted, and drank coffee to try to illustrate that he was engaging in an act that he knew Steve Irwin did not spend the bulk of his time doing.

"What Steve Irwin did was sad, and stupid; we're not trying to pet stingrays or anything, we're experiencing Hawaii's most invigorating... Irwin should have known what was coming. He thought he was a God. Any man knows he can witness nature, but not attempt to overcome it."

"Steve Irwin used to come to my birthday parties," Scott said, which made Alex pause for a second.

"Well, then Steve Irwin would want you to make him proud."

Alex was sort of insufferable. Charisma was probably what had gotten him from the Australian into the L.A. television industry.

"Anyways, this volcano hasn't erupted for decades," he said.

"Yes, so it's high-time it erupts again," Scott reasoned, and shuddered at the Mount St. Helens eruption that had played on his television when he was young. His psychologist insisted he was so young at the time that he shouldn't be able to remember it. But he did. Alex had probably been busy riding kangaroos.

"Anyways," Alex was continuing, "The sun is supposed to be beautiful from up there, if you wait until it starts to set, which I was thinking that we could do. And there is really nice volcano-rock at the top, I've heard."

Scott was noticing he was a bit put out, without trying to hide it. But he had come to suspect candid was just how Alex was.

"I know we can get volcano rocks up there, which would be a great present to send back home, but can we do something that I don't have to go shopping at an R.E.I. in preparation for."

As much as Scott respected R.E.I., and truly did love the outdoors — he _had_ had access to it with the money a teenager needed to get to the mountains and desert flats of East L,A. on the weekends — "I can't shop for myself on Christmas; that's a little selfish". Which was a satisfactory excuse in Scott's opinion, but he looked over and realized Alex had learned one month into working with Scott that it was necessary to employ the distinction between explanation and excuse when it came to him.

"I have a couple of more ideas lined up, then," said Alex, swiveling a WD-40'd 180, and looking back down at his IPad. Scott leaned over him and grabbed the cup of Kona that hadn't been touched in the 20 minutes since he had bought it for Alex, to not let it go to waste, and saw that there was a Bing page with the search results for "Hawaii's most dangerous spots" open, so plainly in sight that he knew Alex didn't care if he noticed it. Subtle was so not Alex's forte. And Scott was so not getting out of this.

 

 

How exactly it had ended up just Alex and Scott going somewhere together for Christmas, Scott wasn't entirely sure.

At the mid-season Hawaii Five-O wrap party, while they were eating Hawaiian pizza, and while Scott was explaining he personally thought it was "sort of ridiculous that the party is called the Mid-Season Wrap Party; we've filmed 15 out of our 22!" it had been found out that everyone had plans except for the two of them.

Lauren had asked peppily what all of them were doing, saying, "Larisa and I found a really splendid private boat that will circle the Big Island during the days of Channukah, and docks at black beaches and hotels if you want. I think it's really important to be out in nature with the one you love, especially during the holidays. Being in Hawaii is such a blessing, you've got to take advantage of it."

And apparently Grace was spending it at clubs on the North Shore with Katee Sackhoff and Taylor.

"I guess it'll be you and me," Alex said, glowing more than he had seemed to before, which Scott had deemed unlikely in the first place considering he had been there when Alex had been informed that his son would be spending Christmas with his mother.

"Daniel, you want to hang out with us, man?" Scott asked, as it was the Guy thing to do.

This was met with a scoff.

 

 

On the morning of December 25th, two cups of Kona and _malasadas_ in hand, Alex and Scott drove down the island road in Alex's shiny, new, blue, sleek, state-of-the-art Prius, with it's amazing gas mileage. Maybe it was the sugar and caffeine, but in this car, it felt like Scott and Alex were able to blend into nature, the purr of the engine so much softer than Scott’s gas-run automobile.

Alex had picked Scott up the day after Scott’s insistence that they were not, not, not doing any of the things on Alex’s list because he had gotten over his self-destructive streak in his ‘20s after a barfight that ended in truly unattractive mug shots and his sexuality being outed to his father far earlier than planned. Alex had finished the conversation with a laugh, and an insistence that he didn’t want Scott killed either, and after a beat, asking a little louder for a Christmas present, which had ended up being the _malasadas_ , and now they were here.

Here was a terrifying mountain road.

But Scott supposed his stunt double had hung off cliffs, so he could deal. And besides, Scott thought, when Alex started telling _Haole_ jokes, and Scott felt himself breathe for the first time since the beginning of the season's filming, the ocean air was nice through his window.

“Don’t worry, Scott, you won’t hate it. I’ll keep you where you can see the city-line,” said Alex, when he thought he saw Scott looking unsure.

“Really?” Scott asked. But to be honest, Scott trusted him, and he hoped Alex knew that.

They ended up at an empty beach with waves that Scott could only describe as perfect. When they trudged down to the shore, as Alex had insisted, shoeless, Scott could see little sand crabs and anemones in tide-pools.

“Is this all?” he asked Alex, and before Alex could look to hurt, quickly amended. “No poisonous sharks? The anemones don’t have teeth or stingers?”

“No, not dangerous,” Alex Australian-ily said and rolled his eyes.

And then Scott recognized it from the pictures. It was at first hard to recognize, because this was a beach that was in not all of the surfing documentaries, but just one, the one about the boarder that had been Scott's favorite since he was six.

He had mentioned the beach to Alex when Alex had accompanied him to buy his first surfboard on the island. It was highly impressive that Alex had remembered, considering Scott had only read about him in Hawaiian magazines.

"Are you kidding me?" asked Scott, forgetting the small amount of composure he still retained around Alex, for, come to think of it, no particular reason.

“Merry Christmas,” Alex smiled, and punched Scott in the shoulder.

Scott sort of felt like he had been punched in the heart, but didn’t know why.


End file.
